What do you seek? Why are there
tears, gliding down your cheeks when
comfort is near. What is it you need?
A powerless man will run over
all before he admits he has lost control,
so he seeks, for what? He claims,
he needs a little more, satisfaction he can't
confront when his mind is shattered. Maybe
he seeks to calm the chaos lurking beneath
but he strikes in anger when the hand
attempting to calm him, belongs not to him.
Oh, compose your soul, I am but
making assumptions, an attempt to recognize
what it is that makes you blind to
your anger. This rage, in its purest form
burns bridges, such hate leaves a trail...
and to my amaze, I find specks of grace,
compassion, truth, in this hatred you left..
So I ask you again, what is it you seek?
You preach louder than the alarming sirens pouring through my window,
your words stinging, inspiring, igniting, reviving an old wound
as I try to comprehend, your rage, it
needs a shelter. Yet, it is pushed down,
making home where it does not belong,
your heart may turn bitter, if this rage
someday takes over.
Oh, compose your soul dear friend,
I am but making assumptions
to answer the unanswered.
Who am I to try to fit you in a box
of ready made disorders, I make no claims
about you, only assumptions...